In a consumer-oriented society, we think that money can buy everything. Here's an example that shows this just isn't true. In fact, Julian Boulle, famed South African skydiver and birdman put it simply as, "If you haven't done the time, you just can't get there."
I've been traveling to deliver an invited talk. Travel provides me with time for reading and moments of television. Last night, dining alone, I saw the rebroadcast of a 60-minutes piece on the "birdmen."
These are guys in tight, spandex-type nylon suits that make them into flying squirrels on steroids. Using these suits, they base jump off mountains (a favorite spot is the Romsdal valley in Norway, particularly Romsdalshorn). They reach speeds of 140 miles per hour as they soar along the mountain face. Of course, they pull a parachute for the landing—something they say is the scariest point in the whole thing.
You can see this documentary on the 60-minutes website.
Among the leaders in this sport is Julian Boulle. Julian caught my attention in this short documentary because he summarized a key part of this admittedly dangerous and crazy sport. He said,
"Money can't buy you this experience. You've got to have the passion to do your time. If you haven't done the time, you just can't get there. You can't arrive with like $10,000 and buy a wingsuit experience."
I think he said it all in this statement, at least in terms of what it really means to live a meaningful life.
Although it is obvious that you can't buy this particular experience, what I think is just as true, yet not as obvious, is that there are few experiences you truly can buy. Yes, a tourist industry, and particularly the adventure-tourism industry may try to make us believe otherwise, but the experience you buy is a meager simulation. Not surprisingly, some people who do try to buy these extreme-sport experiences, like wealthy adventurers who lease a dog team to run the Iditarod dog-sled race, often run into serious trouble, risking life and limb, because they haven't done the time. (This is something that the Iditarod is seeking to solve by making the prerequisite for doing the race a serious demonstration that the willing rookie has really "done the time.")
I could imagine that in our world of 3-D gaming and virtual reality that it may be possible to experience some of the sensations of this kind of jumping/flight. However, psychologically it will always fall short.
Why? Because without doing your time, as Boulle so beautifully said, you haven't developed the skill to really do anything, and you haven't developed the richly nuanced understanding of what is involved. And, in case some gamer may object noting that many skills must be learned to effectively negotiate virtual reality, let me remind you that these birdmen risk their lives doing this. In a word, it's REAL. Gamers may risk their jobs or relationships with too many hours spent engrossed in a virtual world, but they're not connected to much else that is real.
Real lives. Authentic experience. Doing your time. These concepts seem to be lost in a world that celebrates "reality tv shows" that have little connection to reality, and Idol-type contests that create an instant form of stardom (yet none at all).
All this said, we don't have to jump off of the peak of Romsdalshorn to be real, but we do have to do our time. I think it's only through "doing our time" in the context of our own lives that we can develop the rich experiences that make life meaningful. What this means varies for each of us. For me, one of these experiences and passions is my dog team. I do my time. I run dogs. Twenty three years since my first "bought experience" on the runners of a sled, I know the difference between the simulation and the reality.
At the end of the documentary, Boulle turns to his birdmen companions and says something like, "Do you think anyone—in the whole world—had as much fun as we did today?"
I love the passion with which he said this. His joy comes from the connection of the years of devoted practice and the exhilaration of skill meeting opportunity.
In sum, when passion fuels time spent deeply engaged, learning, being, "doing your time"—happiness results. You can't buy it.
